


love surely isn't here, I know that.

by faucer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Light Angst, Other, Vent tbh, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:56:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faucer/pseuds/faucer





	love surely isn't here, I know that.

a pair of burning lips caressing your left calf, dawdling, sweetly brushing against your skin, with slow movements climbing up, tracing the outline that his fingers previously drew upon your flesh. tongue afraid, shy of slipping out, but nevertheless eager to do so, unable to resist the urge to map every crevice of your body, to ingrain each bone in his mind, to seal off all your moles, to make amends for any wrinkle, to taste your liquorice and artichoke flavour, to worship curves, shapes, whichever part you throw at him and, more than anything, to etch his canines between your clavicle and your chest, as to let blood arise from your veins on the most sensitive spots and form warm bruises made of love, just near your heart.   
“stop.” he obeys, head dangling to the side, eyes glued to yours, anxious to go past your barriers “you’re not allowed.” a painfully idle blink, his cheek skimming your knee. ‘why’ the single question his ochre LED does not bother to voice “please.” utter devotion in whispers, his hand hovering on your other leg, pleading to touch you, craving even for your sympathy “begging? pathetic.” “i am. especially without you.” his woes like steam, cascading, dampening your soft derma “you’re disgusting.” “i am.” he replies, not waiting for a second. no matter the significance, no matter the spite, he always yearns to listen the hurtful loop of your words, recording them, rewinding them, analyzing them, making them his and his alone “you’re no better than a dog.” “i am. no better.” you heave a sigh, mildly annoyed at his apathy “you’re a wretched critter, lapping at your open wounds. do you think i could ever love someone like you?” “i am.” his pupils seeking solace in your gaze “i hate you.” “i love you.” your mouth deforms into a nauseated smile, the pit of your stomach revolting, instigating the wish of puking. you lift your foot and stomp his shoulder, twisting the fabric of his black turtleneck “you never learn, do you?” “i don’t.” he lowers your ankle, then, his knuckles act as levers, pushing down the twin size mattress and shifting the weight on the bed, his figure towering you, casting a shadow that stretches to the floor. his face hazardously close, irises trembling with desire and worry, longing for a sign, palms uncontrollably reaching for your jaw  _ “do not touch me.” _ a tone full of hatred that makes him clenches his fist, stopping, slumping with his nose on the sheets, his ear almost touching yours  _ “please.” _


End file.
